Tease
by KiraKira-Kirimi
Summary: Poland finds the bedroom a little boring, and decides to spice things up. Light bondage. Lemon. Deanon from Kink Meme.


For Poland, life in the bedroom had become utterly boring. Sure, it still feltgood and all, but it was completely predictable. Night after night, they danced through the same routine, knowing exactly where the next kiss would fall – for God's sake, even the _foreplay_ was the same. There just wasn't anything new or exciting to spice things up. And that was _not cool_.

Of course, Poland couldn't just say that to Lithuania. If he did, he knew, Lithuania would just turn bright red and change the subject, and the grand total of _nothing _would be accomplished. Honestly, Lithuania's prudishness was totally cute and all, but sometimes, it was just _lame, _with a capital 'l'.

So, naturally, everything fell on Poland's shoulders. It was up to him to come up with something awesome, something that would totally change things – 'cause, he knew, if he played his cards right, Lithuania would _totally _get it.

Thing was, however, Poland just wasn't the kind of guy who thought much, and he didn't have a whole lot of creativity. He pondered the subject long and hard, but he simply couldn't come up with anything. He considered candles and flower petals, but then, he decided, although that would be totally sweet and all, it wasn't something that would stick in their minds for long. And, frankly, it wouldn't do much to change their . . . erm, _activities._ Doing it new places, too, wasn't interesting enough because honestly, Lithuania had a gift of keeping things the same, even when they were upright against the kitchen counter.

Poland chewed his lip and pouted and furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, but nothing came to him. It was normally _Lithuania's _job to do the thinking, and he just couldn't force himself to sudden brilliance. Well, he _supposed_ he could do research or something, but he kind of didn't feel like opening a book. It would be so much easier if he could just _ask _someone . . .

. . . of course, now that he thought of it, he _could _ask someone.

"Where are you going?" Lithuania asked, poking his head around the corner just as Poland was about to open the door.

Poland grinned mischievously. "It's, like, totally a secret."

"Oh." Lithuania knew better than to press; Poland couldn't really keep a secret, and by the day was out, he'd probably let it slip anyway. "Will you be back in time for dinner?"

"Yaaah."

"Well, have fun then."

Actually, the fun would really come into play when he got _back_, but Poland decided it would probably be in the best interests of the surprise not to mention that. "Like, duh," he replied.

Lithuania wasn't quite sure he liked that glint in Poland's eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So you want to know the secrets of the bedroom, mon élève?" sang France, twirling a rose in his hands. "Well! You've come to the right place."

Poland rolled his eyes. "Well, duh. I knew _that _already. Could you just, like, totally tell me something I could, you know, _use_?"

"Tsk! So impatient. The secrets of amour cannot be rushed."

"Rii-ight."

France looked faintly amused. "Well, why don't you tell me what you're already doing, to start?"

"Like, totally the usual," Poland replied with a shrug. "You know, blowjobs, and sometimes, like, we fuck. I totally top . . . most of the time."

"And this would be a couple times a week?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well . . . ," France mused, stroking his chin in thought. "I've seen more hopeless cases. I think – no, I know – I can help."

Poland didn't quite know how to respond to that – he was less hopeless than others? What on earth did that mean? But as he opened his mouth to retort something heatedly, France leaned over him, smirking suggestively.

"The question is," France breathed. "is whether or not you want me to _show _you . . ."

"Ew! No!" Poland flailed desperately, both hands and feet flying frantically in disgust of the very _thought_. France? Not in a million _years_!

There was a yelp, and suddenly France wasn't hovering over him anymore. Rather, he was scowling at Poland from a safe four feet away, nursing a throbbing jaw where a fairly powerful punch had clipped him. "That was not cute."

Poland glowered right back. "You, like, deserved it."

"Ah, the pain one endures for love!" France lamented pitifully. "You don't know what you're turning down. What a pity!"

"Just, like, _tell _me already. Or I'll totally just go home now."

"Oh, no, no! You simply can't turn down this educational experience, this opportunity!" France cried.

"I _totally_ can."

"There is so much I can teach you – you won't regret it!"

"Fine." Poland glared at France suspiciously, but he slumped back in his chair and crossed his legs. "Like, bring it on."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Poland had to admit it; he didn't regret it. Okay, maybe there were some things he could have done without, but the entire conversation as a whole had been pretty enlightening. He was actually rather excited to put some of what he learned into practice.

"Oh, you're back!" Lithuania said happily as Poland walked through the door. "Where were you?"

"Mmm?" Poland replied. He slinked up to where Lithuania was scalding some milk in a pan and turned him to face him, letting a smirk dance across his lips. "That," he purred. "is still a total secret."

Lithuania's eyebrows arched slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something in response – but Poland swallowed the words with his tongue as he kissed him, slowly but nonetheless passionately.

Lithuania let out a small grunt of surprise. "P-Poland . . . ," he murmured. "Can I finish cooking first?"

"Duh," Poland replied, even as he trailed a finger tantalizingly over Lithuania's chest. "I just, like, wanted to say hello." He smirked and licked Lithuania's nose.

Lithuania flushed scarlet, hurriedly turning back to the stove. Poland, however, didn't let go; his arms came around Lithuania's waist, holding him closer to him so that he could nuzzle his lips in the crook of Lithuania's neck. "Mmm . . . ," he said, breathing in the heady scent. "Whatcha making?"

Lithuania swallowed. "Babka," he answered.

Poland paused, resting his chin on Lithuania's shoulder in order to give him a sidelong glance. "Why? Is it, like, my birthday?"

"No. I just thought it would be something special."

Poland trained his gaze upon Lithuania, as if trying to discern whether or not he was telling the truth, and that there really wasn't some sort of special occasion Poland had completely forgotten about. Apparently, however, Lithuania must have passed the test; after a moment, he broke out in a wide grin. "Ya know, that's totally awesome, to the max," he purred.

"I knew you'd like it."

"Hmm," Poland agreed, dropping a series of kisses to Lithuania's collarbone. "You're, like, super amazing, Liet."

Lithuania blushed. "Thanks."

"Do we, like, have enough to make šaltibarščiai, too?"

Lithuania turned, eyeing Poland with an unmistakable look of surprise. "Šaltibarščiai?" he echoed. "But you _hate _that!"

"Well, _duh_. But, like, if I get my fave food, you should totally get yours, too."

Lithuania stared. "Poland . . . ," he murmured softly, clearly not certain how to respond.

"Well?" Poland prompted. "Could we, like, make it?"

"Sure, I suppose . . ."

Poland grinned. "Like, sweet!" He gave Lithuania's waist a tight squeeze, smirking as Lithuania's breath hitched. Oh, that blush was so utterly endearing. It took quite a bit of self control to drag him up to bedroom right then and there – but, he reminded himself, it wasn't time for that just yet.

Poland disentangled himself from Lithuania and approached the pantry, putting a distinct seductive spring in his step as he went. Lithuania turned away, eyes pointedly averted as that cute flush deepened, but Poland pretended not to notice.

The heat in the kitchen slowly rose as the warmth leaked from the oven, mingling with the scent of baking bread and sugar. And, as the temperature increased, so did Lithuania's evident discomfort. Poland was being extraordinarily bold, never missing an opportunity to steal a kiss or draw a hand dangerously low across Lithuania's back – and, as a result, the passing minutes were punctuated by Lithuania's gasps and hisses.

"Po-Poland!" Lithuania stammered as Poland's hand slid under his shirt and brushed against the bare skin of his abdomen.

Poland just smirked, pinching him slyly before withdrawing his hand.

Lithuania didn't quite know what to make of Poland's advances. Normally, when Poland got like this, flirting with him physically and constantly touching him in a not-so-innocent manner, he was headstrong and demanding; usually, it took only about twenty minutes from the first come-hither glance for either them to be stripped naked and rolling about in the bed, or for Poland to be sulking moodily in the corner, bitter about Lithuania's refusals to participate. But today, Poland seemed different. Somehow, he was more playful in his kissing and groping, more laid-back and teasing. He appeared to be quite enjoying himself, with none of his usual haste – heck, it'd been almost four hours, and there'd hadn't been any contact that lasted more than a few seconds.

The strangeness of it all was putting Lithuania on edge. Even when full minutes passed without Poland so much as glancing in his direction, he was on high-alert, his skin growing hypersensitive as he tried to anticipate the next time Poland's hand would reach out to brush his cheek. Poland seemed to find this all very amusing – but honestly, if this kept up much longer, _Lithuania_ would become the demanding one.

However, if Lithuania had hoped that the dinner table would put enough distance between them to make for a more comfortable environment while they ate, he was dead wrong. Poland somehow seemed immune to the tangibility of the table; every couple of minutes, Lithuania would feel Poland's fingers brush against his wrist or his foot be playfully prodded. Once, even, Poland had leaned across the table to snatch a bit of babka from his lips – with his mouth.

But it wasn't until Poland brushed his thigh that Lithuania finally snapped.

Poland's fingers trailed up his leg, drifting slowly inward, and Lithuania had to bite his lip to keep from gasping. When he stared at Poland, however, Poland just smiled back at him innocently, as if oblivious to what he was doing – which, Lithuania knew, was certainly _not_ the case.

Lithuania snatched Poland's hand and batted it away, somewhat flustered. Poland's eyebrows lifted.

"Like, what're you doing?"

"I should be asking _you_ that!" Lithuania retorted incredulously. "Why do you keep _touching _me?"

"Because, like, I want to? I mean, we're totally BF's right?" Poland replied.

"Well – yeah, but you normally just want sex when you keep touching me like that! Why are you being so casual about it?"

Poland smirked, leaning back in his chair. "You're just, like, cute to the max when you get all uncomfy and stuff. I totally can't help it."

Lithuania flushed scarlet and dropped his eyes to his plate. He was cute when he was flustered? Well, Lithuania resented that. He would have to show Poland that he could play, too, and that he should _not _be underestimated. It was time to put a stop to this cat-and-mouse game.

Poland read the determination in Lithuania's eyes, and his eyebrows knit together in smug triumph.

"Aw, you're, like, totally doing it again!" Poland purred, leaning over to kiss Lithuania chastely.

Lithuania wasn't having any of that. The moment Poland's lips brushed against his, he let out a slight, noncommittal sound and wrapped his arms around Poland's neck, forcing them closer together and impassioning the kiss. He could feel Poland smirk against him, but he didn't care. Even if he was simply falling precisely into step with whatever Poland had planned, _he _wanted it, too, and no sense of pride was going to stand in his way.

Lithuania parted his lips slightly and ran a tongue over Poland's mouth. Leisurely, Poland permitted him access, but the way his tongue caught Lithuania's upon entrance made it clear that _he _was the one in control. Lithuania redoubled his efforts – and this time, Poland could not help an involuntary groan from escaping his throat.

Lithuania withdrew, a slight smile gracing his lips. "Now who's cute?" he teased.

Poland, however, looked entirely unimpressed. "Is that seriously _it_?"

"What –?"

And before Lithuania could finish his question, Poland had reclaimed his lips, capturing him a powerful kiss and giving him no doubts as to who was _really _in charge. Lithuania couldn't help smiling; he _knew_ that demanding tone – and as much as he'd never admit it aloud, it kind of turned him on.

Poland's hands were running all over his body, and Lithuania flinched as Poland's cold fingers found their way under his shirt.

"Mm, Liet . . . ," Poland murmured softly against Lithuania's lips. "Like, we should go to the bed."

Lithuania flushed at the implication, but his grip on Poland's shirt tightened in agreement.

Poland smirked, and began to twist himself about in Lithuania's embrace. Lithuania got the hint. Without breaking the kiss, he scooped Poland up bridal style – inwardly balking at the weight but knowing better than to say anything – and began to stagger towards the stairs.

Poland was running his fingers through Lithuania's hair, tugging irritably at the tie that held it out of Lithuania's face as he cooked. It finally came loose, however, and Poland eagerly buried his hands into Lithuania's freed curls just as Lithuania gently pushed him onto the bed.

But now that the journey from kitchen to bedroom had been accomplished, Poland had no intentions of continuing to assume the – for lack of a better term – _girl's_ role. The moment his back touched the mattress, he rolled, using his momentum to settle Lithuania comfortably below him. Lithuania let out a grunt, but he wasn't particularly surprised; Poland had never been keen to take the submissive initiative in the bedroom.

What _did_ surprise him, however, was the chilly bite of metal against his wrist and the ominous _click_ of something locking.

"Poland!" he gasped, jerking away.

Poland smirked and jerked Lithuania's arm up and over his head. Lithuania struggled, but Poland's knee rubbed against his groin – it was a low tactic, really – and then the other end of the handcuff was safely fastened to the bedpost.

"Wh-what on earth are you doing?" Lithuania demanded. He was straining against the chains desperately, but to no avail – and finally, he gave up, panting, to fix Poland with a bewildered stare.

Poland licked his lips and shifted his weight so that he was hovering mere centimeters over Lithuania. "Like, I just wanted to try something _new_," he murmured into his ear. "But if you totally don't like it, we don't have to."

"Poland . . . !"

"_Do _you not like it?"

Lithuania flushed and turned his head to one side, not meeting Poland's eyes. But that was all the answer Poland needed – he could read the curiosity and suppressed excitement even in the twitch of Lithuania's lip. With a smirk, Poland languidly ran his tongue against the shell of Lithuania's ear, delighting at the gasp it elicited from him. "I totally knew you'd love it," he teased.

Lithuania moved his head to try to capture Poland's lips in his – but Poland moved downwards, instead deciding to tongue Lithuania's neck.

"Po- . . . !" The chains jangled as Lithuania struggled to wrap his arms around Poland's neck, and, frustrated with his restriction, Lithuania arched against Poland desperately.

"Like, you're totally not being patient," Poland told him crossly as he pushed Lithuania roughly back down to the mattress.

Lithuania blushed.

But despites his complaints of Lithuania's impatience, Poland had no intention of making him wait that much longer anyway – after all, he, too, was just as in need of release. His fingers were already fumbling with the buttons of Lithuania's top, pushing aside the fabric with each one he undid. Eagerly, he sucked down upon Lithuania's collarbone, every once in a while nibbling at the tender skin to the sound of Lithuania's sharp inhalations.

Undoing the last button, Poland pushed the shirt apart – and then paused. "Damn," he cursed. "I, like, _totally_ forgot. There's no way to take off your shirt now without, like, taking off the cuffs or cutting the shirt."

Lithuania blanched. "D-don't cut it!"

"_Duh_. Do I look like the kind of guy who would ruin good clothes?" Poland rolled his eyes. "Naw, this will just have to do." He pushed Lithuania's shirt as far up his arms as possible, and Lithuania shivered as the cool air brushed against his exposed chest.

Poland smirked. "Cold?" he teased.

Flushing, Lithuania said nothing – but then, Poland's lips were fluttering softly over his chest, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. He screwed his eyes shut, willing that . . . well, he wasn't quite sure, but the sensations were beginning to overwhelm him, and he wanted them both to increase and to go away at the same time.

Poland's teeth grasped Lithuania's nipple, and he flicked it with his tongue at the precisely the same moment that he gave it a sharp nip. Then he did it again, relishing at the mewl it drew from Lithuania's lips. Once more, and Lithuania was writhing beneath him in mixed desperation and frustration. Lithuania's hands were clenching and unclenching, tugging constantly at the handcuffs as he fought to wrap his arms around Poland's neck – and the sight drew a groan from Poland's own throat.

Poland's fingers pressed against Lithuania's abdomen, and his nails bit into the skin as his own fists curled in excitement, but Lithuania made no move to complain. Rather, he arched his back upwards into Poland's palm, as if reminding him to move downward and deal with the issue at hand there.

But Poland had already thought of that. His left hand was drifting steadily lower, and at Lithuania's impatient urging, the fingers brushed against the waistband of Lithuania's pants.

Lithuania gasped. His hips bucked upwards once more, begging Poland desperately for his touch.

And Poland was only too happy to comply. He hastily undid the zipper of Lithuania's pants, and with one swift tug, he removed both over- and under-wear. He heard Lithuania hiss as the cold air brushed areas normally clothed in public, and Poland glanced up, amused, to see Lithuania looking pointedly away with a furious blush painting his features – it seemed Lithuania never got over his embarrassment, no matter how many times Poland had seen him this way. Poland smirked and took Lithuania's erection into his palm.

Lithuania inhaled sharply, tensing in Poland's grasp. But Poland had already begun to run his hands up and down Lithuania's length mercilessly, and Lithuania could not help the whimpers and moans that fell from his lips.

"Oh, God, Poland!" he cried. His hands were grasping desperately for something to hold onto – but the handcuffs held him fast. "P-please!"

"Please what?" Poland replied coyly, fluttering his eyelashes. He tightened his grip on Lithuania just slightly, but it was enough to make Lithuania groan and buck up into his hand.

"D-don't care . . .," Lithuania gasped. "Just . . . more."

Poland smirked. His eyes glowed as he continued to pump, his gaze fixed on Lithuania's face in something akin to enthralled enrapture; Lithuania's features were almost glowing red with his flush, and in the warm light of the dying daytime, Poland could just barely make out the first prickles of sweat glistening at the base of his neck. Languidly, he ran his tongue over Lithuania's collarbone, feeling a thrill run up his spine as Lithuania shivered.

His hand was gaining speed and pressure, eliciting tiny little whimpers from deep within Lithuania's throat – tiny little whimpers that made his heart pound like a drum within his chest and spoke straight to the heat between his legs. Poland moaned appreciatively, kissing him hard.

And then he released, all the tension in his grip melting away in a millisecond.

"Poland!" Lithuania protested indignantly. He arched his back, searching for that friction once more, his abdominal muscles rippling ever-so-slightly with the effort. "Please, don't stop!"

And _oh_, how Poland would've loved to oblige, to rub him hard and fast until Lithuania simply couldn't take any more – but Poland knew better; he could wait. He could be patient, even if Lithuania was finding that difficult, and he was going to take full advantage of the fact. With a devilish smirk, he trailed a finger up the underside of Lithuania's length, so lightly that it could have very well just been a breath of the wind.

Lithuania bit his lip, but that did not fully hold back the truncated cry as Poland pressed gently down on the tip of his cock with his thumb. Lithuania squeezed his eyes shut, and then Poland's hands were back around him, running up and down his length and smearing his precum along the whole shaft, but in comparison to the way Poland had been rubbing him before, it was so light, so gentle – the cruelest of teases. Lithuania groaned.

And Poland's other hand was certainly not making things any better. It was darting all over Lithuania's body, tracing his collarbone and dancing up his biceps. Running down his sides. Pinching his belly. Everywhere at once, and yet nowhere at once, for there was so little pressure, it was merely as if a butterfly was fluttering across his skin.

Lithuania trembled, feeling the warmth of arousal flooding his system. "_Poland_ . . ."

Poland grinned and trailed his finger towards the inside of Lithuania's leg. His other hand sped up just barely – and then the wandering finger was gone. Lithuania blinked up at him through the haze of desire, just in time to see Poland flash him a lewd grin and take his own middle finger into his mouth.

It was a show – that much was obvious from the way Poland's eyes drifted half shut and a smirk pulled at the corners of his lips. And it was a good show – _that_ much was obvious from the way Lithuania literally squeaked. Poland chuckled, sensually trailing his tongue up his finger, swirling about the tip, and then taking his finger into the knuckle and sucking down with a groan. Lithuania flushed, looking very much torn between wanting to look away and needing to just stare forever.

"You like?" Poland asked, pulling out his finger with a small _pop_ and nipping the tip. "I could . . ." He giggled and pointedly squeezed Lithuania's cock.

Lithuania turned bright red. "Oh – _oh_, god . . ."

"I didn't hear that, Liet," Poland teased. "Do you want me to do this to you?" And he ran his tongue up his finger, sucking down _hard_ on the tip.

"G-god, _yes_. Please."

And without any further ado, Poland slid down Lithuania's body, nudging his legs a little further apart in the process. He peered headily up at Lithuania, filthy smirk playing at his lips, and flicked out his tongue.

Lithuania gasped and arched, his biceps trembling at the odd angle. "P-Poland!"

It was a plea, and this time, Poland decided to be kind. His lips wrapped around Lithuania's length, and slowly, he began to move forwards, taking him in centimeter by centimeter. Lithuania moaned loudly, involuntarily bucking his hips up into Poland's mouth – which only made Poland giggle, sending vibrations up the length of Lithuania's spine.

Once Lithuania was in as far as he could go, Poland began to suckle mercilessly, his hands rubbing harshly against the length he couldn't quite reach. His tongue ran up the underside of Lithuania's cock, following the vein, and he began to bob his head, pulling back and pushing back deeper.

Lithuania squirmed as jolts of pleasure raced though his body, and he screwed his eyes screwed shut, lost in the sensation. "Oh, _god_, Poland!" he whimpered as Poland pulled back to lick the tip of his cock. He could feel the tension building in his lower abdomen like liquid fire, getting dangerously close to spilling over, and he gasped.

But it must have showed on Lithuania's face, because then Poland drew back sharply, releasing Lithuania's length entirely. A self-satisfied smirk set firmly in place, he sat back, his hands crossing in front of his chest and his tongue back in his mouth.

"Poland, please-!" Lithuania implored, arching up to him. "I need . . . !"

"Nu-uh, Liet," Poland replied firmly, looking as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself. "You'll, like, come too soon."

"Poland-!"

But Poland ignored him, simply sitting back on his heels at watching Lithuania's face with apparent intrigue. Lithuania squirmed below him uncomfortably, his impending orgasm receding with each passing moment that Poland refused to touch him, and he whimpered.

Then, an evil glint glimmering in his eye, Poland stretched lazily and then hopped off the bed.

"Poland, wait – where are you going?"

Poland paused and peered back over his shoulder. For a long moment, he said nothing, just letting his eyes wander over Lithuania's body. Then: "Like, what makes you think I'm going anywhere?"

Lithuania blinked, somewhat confused. But Poland simply sauntered – and, yes, he certainly did_ intentionally _swing his hips just so – over to the dresser and began to rifle through it.

As Lithuania watched, Poland fingered the clothes, cocking one hand on his hip as if in thought. Surely, Lithuania thought, confusion furrowing his brow, Poland couldn't be thinking about _clothes_ right now, could he? He should be focused on getting _out_ of his clothes.

But after a moment, Poland stepped back, and in his hands, there was a small tub of what was unmistakably lube. Poland caught Lithuania's eye and grinned.

"You want?" he purred, slowly unscrewing the top and smearing the liquid over his fingers.

Lithuania's cock gave a painful throb.

Blushing furiously, Lithuania found that all words had escaped him. He could only his legs a little wider, but for Poland, that was answer enough. That lewd grin spread slowly across Poland's lips once more, and he continued to lather his fingers in lube while the other hand moved to rub his erection through the fabric of the pants that should have been removed a long time back.

Poland's head fell back slightly, and he moaned. Lithuania gasped and screwed his eyes shut, feeling his cock give another painful throb.

"P-please, Poland . . ."

Poland hated to leave his erection, and it took an enormous amount of willpower to make him let go. But, he reminded himself, there was something much better in store. He took a long, steadying breath and pulled his hand away, moving up ever so slightly to unfasten the button of his pants. He forced himself to move slowly; hell, as much as he needed it, as much willpower as it took, he was going to drag it out as long as possible. He pulled down the zipper of his pants, his other hand languidly being to unbutton his shirt.

Lithuania watched, swallowing hard, as Poland wriggled out of his pants and underwear, his shirt falling to the floor behind him. Poland flashed him a coy smirk, his hand tweaking his own nipple and drawing a moan from his lips. But just as Lithuania opened his mouth to plead that Poland _please_ stop teasing him already, Poland was back on the bed, pushing his legs apart.

Lithuania gasped, feeling Poland's lubricated finger press against his entrance. "Ah - !"

"Ready?" Poland murmured. Lithuania nodded jerkily, and then Poland pressed the finger in. Lithuania squirmed at the odd feeling, but Poland simply crooked the finger and began to thrust it in and out with slowly increasing speeds – and it was not long between the uncomfortable hisses became deep groans of pleasure.

The second finger entered easily, and Lithuania cried out as Poland scissored him, stretching the walls. "Oh-oh, god, Poland!" He bucked up against the fingers, forcing them in deeper.

Poland smirked and added the third finger. Lithuania cried out, and his arms strained against the chains as he screwed his eyes shut and bucked.

"P-Poland!"

Poland grinned and pushed in harder, feeling a spike of arousal course through his body as Lithuania grunted and gasped in response. He felt Lithuania loosen around him, and twice more, he pressed the fingers in, scissoring him, but then he finally pulled his fingers out. He would have loved to continue to tease Lithuania with his fingers, stretching him ever-so-slowly wider and never completely filling him, but it would be counterproductive to make Lithuania come too soon.

Lithuania's breathing slowed slightly as he felt Poland's fingers leave him, but it picked up again almost immediately as he felt Poland's erection nudge at his entrance. His hands curled into fists, biceps tightening, and he whimpered.

"O-okay . . . I'm ready."

Poland nodded, and pushed inside. Lithuania grunted, lifting his hips; it wasn't completely comfortable, but at the same time, it wasn't completely uncomfortable. And as he lay there, panting, it slowly became less and less uncomfortable, until Lithuania signaled that Poland could move with a short jerk of his head.

Poland obliged, slowly pushing in all the way, until he was buried to the hilt, and then, just as carefully, pulling out. Lithuania whimpered.

"P-Poland . . . you can move faster . . . please."

Poland grinned; what a wonderful request. He began to thrust faster, pounding in and out with increasing strength and speed as Lithuania's warmth contracted around him. Lithuania cried out, pressing up against Poland and trying to force him in deeper, harder. His legs came up around Poland's waist, dragging him closer with each thrust, and he let his head fall back and the sensations began to build in his lower abdomen once more.

Faster, Poland thrust into Lithuania, harder. Their breath intermingled in heavy panting – Lithuania gasped each time Poland slammed into him, but Poland was more vocal, shamelessly letting moans and cries fall, almost perpetually, from his lips.

"Oh, god, Liet! _Fuck_, yes!"

The tension was growing, tightening within them as Poland's lips found Lithuania's and they kissed – desperately, albeit sloppily, with saliva dripping from their tongues and lips.

"_Nnng_, Poland-!" Lithuania hissed, feeling his legs begin to tremble as he tightened them around Poland's waist. "I-I'm close -!"

And Poland nodded in agreement, feeling the same tension building in the pit of his stomach. He slammed in harder, almost erratically.

With a loud, resounding cry of "Ohmygod_Poland!_", Lithuania came, his body convulsing as he released his seed all over his stomach and Poland's. And as Poland felt Lithuania spasm around him, it was enough to send him over the edge into a temporary heaven of thoughtless white.

"_Liet!_"

Poland collapsed against Lithuania, somewhere in the back of his mind noting the feel of coming inside Lithuania, of filling him with his seed.

For a long moment, they both lay there, breathing heavily and glowing in the aftermath of their orgasms. Neither of them said anything, and Poland's arms came around Lithuania's torso to hold him tightly as he rested his head against his chest and sighed. He breathed in the scent of Lithuania – now mingled with the smell of sweat and sex – and let a sense of utter peace fill him, his eyes drifting shut.

But just as sleep was beginning to blanket his mind, Poland felt Lithuania shift, and a knee prodded him in the side.

"Erm . . . Poland . . . ," Lithuania said sheepishly. "You can sleep and all . . . but first do you mind taking off these chains?"

Poland blinked and let out a sleepy whine, but he obediently unshackled Lithuania and tossed the chains aside.

"Thanks," Lithuania said, once his hands were free. He began to rub his wrists, wincing as his fingers brushed against the red marks from where he had strained against the restraints. But he smiled, and when Poland pressed up against his chest, he instinctively draped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer.

"You know, Poland," Lithuania murmured, now rubbing soft circles on Poland's back. "This was . . . nice. You were right; I liked it."

And through the haze of grogginess, Poland somehow found the energy to giggle. "Like, of course I was, Liet. And next time, you'll chain me?"

"Sure."

"Good. Now shut up. I'm too tired to talk."


End file.
